Seeing An Eternity
by xScenex
Summary: HPLotR crossover. Harry finds himself falling into Middle Earth, blind, blonde, and confused. He's distressed, looks almost like a Malfoy, and he meets a talking tree. Could it get any worse? Of course. No pairings. Rating and title may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Lord of the Rings books and/or movies is not mine. Also, the part about 'The Second Sight' was branched from the series 'The Lost Years of Merlin' by T.A. Barron. I've only changed some of the properties and therefore, do not own anything by him. Take note that information in this story comes from various websites online, some information in the movies, and books. It will NOT be one hundred percent correct, and if I do get something immensely wrong, please feel free to correct me on it. I'm not a wiz at LotR's, so I will not say I am. **

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A/N: Yes, yes… another story from me, but this had never had many intentions of being posted on here - yet. But by popular demand, I have decided to post it up although updates will be slow. I have… Four stories going at the moment, plus a planning for a sequel to SC, then this story. That's SIX stories. SIX! I'm surprised I'm even alive at the moment because of all the stories plaguing me. Please don't kill me. I plan to update all my stories (Although WatC and IB are slow-going, as they're going through reconstruction). So er.. Enjoy?

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Seeing An Eternity  
By: xScenex

Chapter One

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The twirling objects on a deceased Albus Dumbledore's desk caught the attention of one boy. His name was Harry James Potter, proud Gryffindor, and first-year seeker and fifth year captain of his Quidditch team.

This orphan boy had seen a lot in his life - even death, every since before he was a two years old. It was something he was becoming used to, but he still didn't like it. He hated it with a passion. It's what he saw in his dreams, it's what he heard in his fears when the Dementor's got too close to him.

But no matter how hard he tried, he would never escape it.

He knew that, and tried to accept it but it just wouldn't work. He worried for his friends, and worried for his family, though they weren't much to count for. But they were still blood related, his only relatives. Even if they had treated him horribly, they were still living beings that he had known since he was a baby.

Death was a serious thing, in his opinion.

Sighing heavily, Harry Potter walked around the mahogany desk to where the sword of Godric Gryffindor hung on the wall. Memories fluttered into his mind at the sight of the jewel encrusted sword. The first time he'd called the object forth was the time that he had almost lost Ginny.

He knew he would have to leave her soon, in fear of endangering her and her family further. It was bad enough that he was friends with most of the Weasley's. Bill had already gotten caught up in the war with the dark wizard Voldemort, leaving him mauled in St. Mungo's wizarding hospital, Mr. Weasley had nearly died of a snake bite a few years back, and Ginny had also almost died, as previously stated, in the Chamber of Secrets. Not to mention that Ron, his best friend since first year, had nearly been poisoned, but thanks to an old school book that belonged to a certain professor, he had learned just what would help get the poison out of his friends system and was able to save him.

He blinked a few times and ran his hand along the hilt of the sword, admiring the details on it, and looking at the writing upon the sword's blade.

It seemed like such a long time ago that he had first set eyes on the sword. Such a long time ago, when he was innocent and carefree - or, mostly carefree. Him and his friends always headed out for trouble, whether or not they wanted it.

Smiling ruefully at memories of the old days, he allowed his hand to encircle the cold hilt of the sword. He hefted it up off the wall and weighed it, bobbing it up and down a few times.

"This blighter is pretty heavy," he mused, having forgotten the weight up until then.

He lifted it up, holding it up with to hands. The tip nearly touched a low hanging chandelier as he held it straight up above his head. After a moment, his arms became tired and he slowly lowered it, but he lost his grip slightly and it tumbled halfway out of his hands and the tip crashed into some shiny instruments on the desk beside him.

Cursing his luck, he tried to catch the sword. As he did, the tip dragged through some shiny liquid that had begun pouring out of two different objects and had combined. Sizzling sounded from the fluid-like substance and Harry grimaced as a horrid smell filled his nose.

He moved the sword out of the liquid, hoping the blade hadn't been damaged in the process of his clumsiness.

When he finally had it lifted high enough so that it was safe from any more of the odd substance, he realized something was wrong. The sword felt.. Different somehow. He stared at it, scrutinizing it fiercely, but nothing caught his eye.

Eventually he shrugged and walked back to where the sword had hung. As he lifted it up to place it back on the wall, a bright red light erupted from out of nowhere and his head burst into complete and utter pain.

He was blinded by the sudden luminosity and cringed, using one arm to cover his eyes from view of the light, that lasted for well over a minute while he clenched his teeth. The pain was excruciating, almost as worse than when his scar would hurt. It felt as if the air around himself was pulled away forcibly, ripping away his skin in the backlash of wind.

In truth, the air around him crackled with raw energy; enough of it to strip all pigments from his skin, hair, and eyes. The acidic smell filled his nostrils, rendering him practically senseless.

After what seemed like an eternity, the light died down and the pain in his head receded to where he could at least think properly through the throbbing in his temples. He moved his arm but still couldn't see past the black that clouded his vision.

He blinked rapidly a few times, but it didn't help. He strained his ears, hoping to hear something that might tell him what had happened, but he was greeted by the chirping of… birds? A light breeze picked up from somewhere, bringing with it the lingering scent of grass and flowers.

He stumbled a bit and fell to his knee's, Gryffinor's sword falling to his side. He felt grass beneath his hands, and dirt. Lots of dirt.

"Bugger," he whispered, frantically using his hands to try and find anything familiar. His sight hadn't come back yet, and it was beginning to scare him. What had that light done to him?

His breathing became frantic, and his fingers went over cold metal. The sword. The only thing he could recognize. He picked it up carefully, trying not to slice his fingers with the blade and got onto his knee's. Once more, he strained his hearing.

Only the sound of birds, and the rustle of what he presumed to be leaves came to him through the pounding of his heart and head.

His mind raced with many conclusions - had he touched a well planted portkey that had been set for Dumbledore? Was he in immediate danger? Was this the doing of Death Eaters?

Rubbing at his eyes roughly, he tried his best to get the blackness out of his eyes. It still didn't help. Fear gripped his heart and his breathing still wouldn't even out. He felt as if he were about to hyperventilate.

Instead of letting himself go into complete shock, he forced himself to breathe. As he exhaled, he felt a bit better. _That's it, just breathe.. Breathe… this can't be too bad. I just have to find a way back to Hogwarts, and I'll be okay,_ he thought to himself.

He pushed himself off the ground fully this time, stumbling a bit as he couldn't tell where he was going. He used his feet to feel his way around, and used one outstretched hand while the other clutched onto the sword tightly to make sure he wouldn't run into anything.

After he stabled himself, he decided to do the only thing possible in his situation, even if he wasn't allowed it - apparition.

He took in a deep breath and imagined the area by the Shrieking Shack at Hogsmeade in his mind and turned on heel, remembering the three steps he'd learned in the lessons.

Nothing happened.

His heart restricted with uncertainty. Was there an apparition ward around the area? He tried once more to travel via wizarding way, but still he had no luck.

_Maybe I only have to walk out of the area?_ he thought to himself. It was easier said than done, as his vision was still black. He felt a cold dread in his heart. What was happening? He took a tentative step forward, breathing in deeply and quietly, trying to keep all other senses alert.

After nothing came to him, he took another step, holding his empty hand out to make sure he wouldn't run into anything while he fumbled about.

A few times while he walked, he nearly ran into a tree, or stumbled over a root as his senses weren't completely used to what was going on. He needed to get back to the school, and go to Madam Pomfrey - she would be able to help him. Why couldn't he see?

The boy could feel the sun against his back through his black cloak and the heat was nearly overwhelming. Harry wanted nothing more than to shrug the cloth off, but knew it best to keep it on - it would provide more of a disguise if the need be, and it also protected him better than nothing would.

He paused and reached into his pocket for his wand. His fingers wrapped around a familiar wooden piece and he pulled it out, the calming effect of the magic flowing to his fingers. He felt a bit better with his wand, and cursed himself for not taking it out sooner, although in the back of his mind, he wasn't sure how he'd use it against anyone if he couldn't see at the moment.

The boy didn't know how long he had walked but to him, it felt like hours, and he wasn't getting anywhere. It was obvious he was in a wood of sorts, but not a dense one. The trees were evened out and the shrubbery sparse. Finally, he couldn't walk on anymore without tumbling over from exhaustion.

Harry didn't know what time it was and he had no idea where he was. He was stranded, temporarily at a great disadvantage. He unconsciously rubbed at his eyes for the umpteenth time in the past half hour, trying to see if there was any change in the vision.

No luck.

Sighing wearily, he sat there on a tree root, quite alert with his back against the trunk. The sounds around him told him of evening, but he wasn't sure if that was true. Things could be deceiving.

After a few moments of listening, he figured it safe to relax a bit. He placed the sword down on the ground next to him, leaning against the large tree he sat near. He slowly fingered his wand, feeling sparks ignite from the end and singe the grass below him.

"Little Orc," a sudden voice boomed from behind him, sounding menacing.

He jumped up, whipping his body around to where he thought the voice had come from. The ground seemed to shake and he tried to keep his balance as it threatened to fail him.

"Who's there?" he yelled shakily, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"An Orc in my woods, bararum!"

The sound was coming from above where he had sat. The very voice grumbled loudly and echoed loudly in Harry's ears. He winched a bit, "Who's there?"

The voice grumbled again, deep and irritated, "Ashtwig, some call me."

Harry was flabbergasted, "Ashtwig? Do you actually think I'd believe that?"

"Believe what you will, little Orc."

"What is an Orc?" Harry shouted angrily, stepping back many paces until his back was against a tree. He felt his heart skip too many times for comfort. Sweat poured down his face and he was scared of what was to come. "And who's side are you on?"

"I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side, little Orc."

"What is an Orc?" Harry shouted, feeling angry at the riddles.

"Bararum.." the voice groused, "If you are no Orc, then what are you?"

"I'm a… a wizard!" Harry said to the person uncertainly, who's name he had already forgotten. If that had even been his real name. He wasn't sure if he should have said that, because he might have run into a muggle.

"A wizard? There is only Gandolf and Saruman. I have never heard word of a Black Wizard, but maybe you are, maybe you aren't. Word doesn't get too far in these areas of the wood."

"Black Wizard? If you're referring to a dark wizard, I'm not like Voldemort!"

There was some shuddering of the bushes around him, and Harry felt the ground shake once more. He suddenly got a jolted picture in his mind of something large and green in front of him. "Bloody hell…" he whispered, gripping onto his wand tighter and holding it out in front of him.

"I speak of Saruman, little Orc. I have no knowledge of whom you call Voldemort," the voice bubbled loudly from above Harry and suddenly before he could react, he was thrust off his feet and pitched high up in the air by something wrapping around his waist. The force was so great that it knocked his wand right out of his hand and he could hear it clatter against something metallic - the sword.

He let out an angry and frustration cry as he was vaguely reminded of those times at the Whomping willow. It sounded as if hundreds of branches were whipping about and around him though none touched him except for the something that had encircled around his waist.

"Let me go," he cried out in fright as he whipped his face around to try and see anything. There was nothing. He began to struggle, "Put me down!"

"Struggling won't get you anywhere," the voice was louder now; it was closer. The thing around his waist tightened its grip, although it was not painful - just a little disconcerting.

"What are you doing to me? What are you - let me down!" Harry felt the rising panic mount completely. His hands reached out and tried to get the thing off him, but it held fast. He felt rough bark under his fingers and palms as he ripped at it, trying to get it loose. It felt oddly like a rough branch.

"A tree?" he cried out in disdain, his mind flaring with the most ludicrous thoughts. "Vine?"

"Tree?" irritation boomed around him, "I'm am an Ent, or that's what they call me."

"What is an Ent?" Harry asked, his mood bubbling almost overboard. "I've never heard of an Ent before! You actually believe I'd take your word? Now let me down!"

"I'm honored by your confidence," the thing said, amusement evident in the voice. "There is something about you - maybe it's the eyes, but I will trust you."

Harry was utterly confused. What was this _thing _talking about? And he thought McGonagall's lesson's confused him half the time…

"I don't even know who - or _what _you are!" Harry once again struggled to get out of it's grasp.

"I'm an Ent," it repeated.

"What is an _Ent_, then?" he spat, and focused his attention on the spot below him where the sound seemed to come from.

As he stared long enough through the darkness that plagued his vision, something blurry came to him like static on a television - something that looked like a tree, but had eyes… and it was speaking… It had to be a dark creature.

"An Ent is a Ent. Nothing more," it grumbled.

"So you're not a wizard?" he asked shakily, making sure what he saw wasn't just his imagination. He wasn't sure if he'd like it to be or not. It was all too disconcerting.

"Wizard? You are a strange one, little Orc."

"I'm not an - an orc, whatever that is!"

"Orc's, they come with fire, they come with axes. Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning. Destroyers and usurpers. Curse them!"

Harry suddenly got the feeling that if the thing holding him thought he was an orc, then he'd be in huge trouble.

"I'm not an orc, okay? I'm - I'm a wizard. My name's Harry," he tried to work the words around the best he could without making himself known completely. It was the only way out, in his mind.

"You call yourself a wizard? But you should not go telling just anybody. You'll be letting out your own right name if you're not careful."

The _Ent, _Harry scowled, was talking in Riddles and it was starting to royally irritate him. "Look, I don't know who or what you are exactly, but could you let me down?"

There was some shifting, "Don't be hasty. If you're wanting your twig and your sword, here," there was rustling, a bit of creaking and he descended slightly, then Harry suddenly felt the objects in front of him.

He reached out quickly and snatched his wand first, then carefully took the sword that was hovering in front of his face. He wasn't sure what was going on - an enemy wouldn't have given him both weapons back.

"You're not with Voldemort then?" he questioned, obviously confused.

"I don't know this Voldemort you speak of."

"So you're not… you don't know anything about the wizarding world?" Harry gulped. He may be in trouble if the ministry found out about that…

"Wizarding world? There are naught but few wizards in Middle Earth and you speak of a Wizarding World?"

"There are more than a few wizards," Harry said hotly, shifting and holding his wand out in front of him towards were the voice was coming from.

"I only know of Gandalf and Saruman," it said, "But there are many things I do not understand."

"Who is Gandalf and Saruman?" Harry asked, the names completely foreign on his tongue as he struggled to pronounce them.

"You are still young," the thing observed, and Harry had a sudden feeling of being observed. "And you do not understand many things as well."

Harry thought for a moment, trying to get the odd feeling of scrutiny out of his system, "What are you going to do to me?"

There was a bout of silence before there was an answer. "I do not know yet."

"You won't take me to Voldemort, will you?" he pleaded, hoping that he had been found by someone remotely decent. They could have been worse, right? At least they weren't trying to kill him… yet.

"So if you're not going to kill me, could you at least tell me where we're at?" he asked, lowering his wand finally. He was pretty much trapped there now and since the _Ent_ didn't seem to be a threat, he decided that he could let his guard down - only slightly.

"We are in Fangorn, forest of Fangorn."

That confused Harry. "Erm… Fangorn? Is that in Britain?"

"Britain, no, never heard of it. We are in Middle Earth."

"Middle… Earth…?" Harry's eyebrows rose. "Where's that?"

"You are strange, young Master Harry."

He visibly blanched at 'master Harry'. It sounded like something Dobby would say, "I'm not the strange one," he said irritably, "You're the one talking in riddles and talking about thing's I've never heard of. You've got to be bloody mental."

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling just as tired as he looked. "I would like to get back to Hogwarts. Do you know how to get there?"

The Ent thing, whatever it was, said, "I don't know where Hogwarts is. Isengard is not too far from here, Master Harry. And as for riddles go, I do not know what 'bloody metal' means - sounds like Orc mischief to me."

"Isengard? Never heard of it," Harry scowled, ignoring the last bit that the creature said. "And what exactly is an Ent? You said you were one, but I've never heard of them before. What do you do? Or… er."

"Ent's are more like Elves - less interested in themselves than Men are, and better at getting inside other things. And yet again Ent's are more like Men, more changeable than Elves are, and quicker at taking the color of the outside, you might say. Or better than both: for they are steadier and keep their minds on things longer."

Harry felt himself slump against the thing that held onto him. He wasn't understanding anything. He felt despair fill his heart. He still couldn't see and he feared that it might be something permanent, and he had no idea where he was. And this thing was completely wrong about elves, he tried to joke half heartedly to himself.

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked again. "Kill me?"

"You are lucky that I spoke to you," the thing said before continuing, "or I would have stepped on you."

"Stepped on me?" he asked ludicrously. He imagined the thing to be large - it had to be some kind of dark creature. Shuddering, he rubbed at his eyes. "What am I going to do? I want to get back to Hogwarts…"

"I have no idea how you can get to this Hogwarts," the Ent said. "But you can stay with me until you figure something out. I doubt you could get far," it chided lightly, "because I can tell by your eyes that you are newly blind.. Although there is something else there… the red in them shows something else."

The cold fear that had been residing inside of Harry suddenly gripped onto his heart tightly. He was blind. The creature could tell. Was it jus a trick, though; Something temporary?

No… Harry knew, deep down inside, that he was now blind. He was blind…

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A/N: So what did you guys think? Good or bad? Should I or should I not continue it? Hm? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Lord of the Rings books and/or movies is not mine. Also, the part about 'The Second Sight' was branched from the series 'The Lost Years of Merlin' by T.A. Barron. I've only changed some of the properties and therefore, do not own anything by him. Take note that information in this story comes from various websites online, some information in the movies, and books. It will NOT be one hundred percent correct, and if I do get something immensely wrong, please feel free to correct me on it. I'm not a wiz at LotR's, so I will not say I am. **

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A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay. Note: Also, I'm sorry to those who wish this to be a 'before the Fellowship' story, but it's planned during the whole ring journey thing.

**Thanks** stellarbeams, Fancyfree, Rubber Ducky Loser, Carolina, jka1, JuMiKu, TanyaPotter, Naomi Maxwell, queen-of-monkey-magic, Sealunis, Moon-Freak00, andMysticMaiden 18 **for all the wonderful reviews!**

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Seeing An Eternity

By: xScenex

Chapter Two

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Fire was everywhere, licking at his skin and clothes hungrily. The boy did all he could to run away from the ghastly things behind him, but his senses were overrode by the fire, smoke, and the acrid smell of the ones known as _Orcs._

It was the first time Harry had ever actually encountered the creatures in the half year he had been in Middle Earth, and he hoped to never see them again if he got out of the forest alive.

He ran blindly - quite literally - through the burning shrubs, the loud cackling of the creatures behind him sending unwanted chills up his back as they began gaining speed on him. He couldn't see where he was going. The fire messed up what little of his second sight he had as it consumed the very life he depended on to see. And worse yet, he couldn't see the Orcs that well. That's what scared him - he was being chased by creatures that just weren't… completely _alive. _They were mere shadows behind him, gaining speed and momentum.

He expanded his second sight as far as he could, but still nothing came to him. The dying life of the forest was quickly disappearing… If only he had tried harder to learn the sight.

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_Flashback:_

Time was passing. How long it was, Harry didn't know, but during the days that he spent wherever he was, he stayed with Ashtwig, the Ent.

He found it odd, at first, but after at least a week of acquaintance, he realized that the creature was something magnificent. He'd learned much from the Ent, about the species itself, about where he was, and about himself.

See, the truth was, Harry was no longer in his own world. He'd discovered that on the third day of trying to persuade Ashtwig to take him home. After much arguing on Harry's behalf, he realized that they were talking about two different things, and the creature didn't know anything about Britain. He was still insistent that there were only a few known wizards around.

Harry had been depressed for weeks afterwards, wishing nothing more than to fall into a deep dark sleep where he would never wake up but it didn't happen. He missed his friends, his old life - surprisingly, but if fate had thrown him into an unknown place, then so be it. He couldn't change anything, he had thought to himself bitterly on more than one occasion.

Harry was partially able to accept all that as happening, although he still had no idea where he was exactly or what was happening where he was. He realized that he probably could accept it a bit because he had learned that anything was possible in the wizarding world and he had already come to terms with that years before when Hermione showed him the time-turner she used for classes, or it was the fact that he was scared of going back - Dumbledore was dead, and he was blind. How could he ever defeat Voldemort while blind?

After he voiced those thoughts, Ashtwig decided to help him in the only way a tree-creature could. He told Harry that to be able to see again, he would have to use his senses together as one like the elder's used in the older days when all creatures were united as friends. The Ent told him that he needed to feel the nature around him as well as to feel the life pulsing everywhere within the confines of every living body.

'_You have to feel the life, Master Harry.'_

'Feel _life? How am I supposed to do _that_?'_

'_Barumrum. Close your eyes and concentrate on the leaf in front of you. Until you are able to clear your mind, you wont be able to concentrate on the sole object.'_

'_So it's like occlumency?'_

'_I have no knowledge of what you speak of, young Master Harry.'_

'…'

Harry thought it all to be quite ludicrous. He refused to acknowledge it for a long time, until Ashtwig began to explain it to him as the 'second sight', and Harry realized that he had used it quite a few times on his first run-in with the Ent. It was pretty much like magic - sometimes happening accidentally. All he had to do was concentrate hard on something, recognize the shape and the life form inside - which was actually quite hard to do, as he'd never known that he could _feel _life - and he would be able to See things. But Harry had no patience for sitting in once place, trying to concentrate on something pulsing with supposed life. He had trouble learning occlumency before - so the sight proved to be difficult for him to recognize.

After almost a month of constant, nonstop - and mainly forced - attempts to See, he was able to make out the leaves on the tree's surrounding them in the forest, and some of the smaller, slower bugs that inhabited the forest. The life inside both things pulsed convulsively and brightly, allowing Harry to see much more of his surroundings that glowed with green and other colors that he had never actually known existed. Of course, it looked as if it would regularly, just with more color. What he now saw was life at it's best - more brilliant and colorful then before. It was both beautiful and fascinating.

Soon, he tried harder and harder on his 'Second Sight' through sheer fascination, and was able to make out the outlines of tree's without too much difficultly; it had taken him a little over three months to do that. It would be a long time until he was completely trained in the 'Second Sight', his Ent friend had told him, but now that he knew how to do it, it would be easier to move forward with the training.

At least now he didn't constantly run into tree's or trip over uplifted roots.

It was now almost half a year since he'd been in 'Middle Earth', as he'd come to call it. He still couldn't grasp the complete fact that he was somewhere other than Britain, and he often found himself sulking, wishing he was with his friends.

But he couldn't do anything about that.

Many nights during his expanded visit to what he decided to dub 'new world', he and Ashtwig would talk about the things going on in 'Middle Earth'. He learned about the differences from what he knew. Elves were tall, majestic beings instead of servants, and he found out that everything was a bit medieval there, where people fought with swords and other weapons.

He nearly laughed at the irony of being thrown into Middle Earth because of Godric Gryfifndor's sword.

His Ent friend also told him about the evil's in the world, and Harry was strongly reminded of Voldemort every time he heard the name Saruman. He learned that the wizard was ordering the Orc's that he commanded to slowly destory the Faragorn forest, where the Ents resided. Harry was a bit disconcerted, but Ashtwig told him that they never went to far into the forest.

* * *

If only that had been true.

Now, the other-word boy ran for his life, tripping and stumbling through the fire. His lungs ached from the smoke filled air and he gagged constantly on the drifting ash.

The ljeering of the Orc's fill his ears, along with the own thumping of his heart. These creatures were worse than Death Eaters, he thought while dodging around a tree he nearly ran head first into.

It had been almost a full half hour that he'd been running away from the cursed creatures. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue, but he knew he couldn't just let them get him. He had to get away - for Ashtwig's sake. That had been the Ent's last wish for him before he fled. He only hoped his friend was okay.

He felt his heart ache at the thought of having left his friend behind. The Ent was the only person - or creature - he had ever known in the Middle Earth place, besides the tawny owl that had come to him in times of need - who had fled when the Orcs had come. Harry's hero-complex was hard to ignore, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything against the Orc's.

Harry continued to run, the heavy sword at his waist, hung there by a vine woven sheath that Ashtwig had helped him make slammed against his thigh, reminding him that he may have to use it. His wand was tied around his wrist in a handmade holly wand holster, but he couldn't use it in his situation. He'd be firing spells blindly and that would only cost him time.

He wasn't sure how much longer he had been running, but eventually, the sounds of pursuing Orc's started to fade in the distance. Harry allowed himself to slow down; only a little, so that he could run further without exhausting himself more than he already was. His breathing was ragged, and the stitch in his side left him staggering more than before.

"Merlin have mercy," he groaned as he fumbled around a large oak tree. But alas, Merlin had no mercy for him that night.

As he stepped forward, he found that there was no ground to step on, and therefore, flailing his arms about, he fell forwards off a small precipice. He let out a cry of fear and surprise before plummeting down the side.

He slid down the steep slope, covering his face with his hands as random roots and branches hung out of the ground. It was painful, and he found himself wincing as the rocks and shrubbery slapped against his slightly burned and raw skin, which was already quite sensitive from his adventure _to_ Middle Earth.

After mere seconds, he found himself crumpling at the bottom as his feet hit the ground suddenly, sending pain through his legs.

And onslaught of tiny pebbles and rocks followed moments after, covering his cloak in a layer of dust, dirt, and rock. Harry didn't care though - he was in too much pain to notice something as small as that.

How could he be so stupid? Hadn't Ashtwig taught him how to determine if he was in danger of falling into a pond, river, or off a cliff? But panic is a funny thing…

The blonde haired boy pushed himself into a more comfortable sitting position so that the cool breeze could give his burned skin some comfort. He flexed his legs and arms, making sure there was no major damage. He had been lucky on that, at least.

He ached everywhere, but he knew he wasn't out of the danger zone yet. He had no idea of what lived so far into the forest, or if the Orc's would find some other way to get him. He wiped the perspiration of his face, successfully smearing dirt on him, but he didn't care. It was actually a bit of a comfort.

Sighing, Harry tried to stand up. His feet still ached and he only wished to sit back down and not get up, but he needed to move and find someone or something that could help him. He could faintly hear the roar of the burning forest somewhere behind him in the distance as the flames traveled quickly, and the slight clanging of axes against wood. He tried to block it out, knowing that they were destroying the life in those tree's. Since he had gained some Second Sight, he had begun thinking of plants as living, breathing creatures.

Another, faint noise brought him fully alert, but after a few rapid seconds, he realized that it was the tawny owl he had befriended. He'd named her Iris after the Greek messenger, and she had become his new, faithful familiar. Ashtwig had been clearly surprised, saying that the creatures of the forest and all of Middle Earth were never fond of humans, and it was unheard of for the free owls to go willingly to a human.

But Harry figured it was because he was already familiar with owls that she trust him, and he trusted her in return.

"Iris," he breathed out in relief. "You're okay."

The comforting weight placed on his shoulder as she landed was more than enough to sooth his nerves. She hooted softly and nipped at his ear.

"I'm so glad," Harry whispered and he reached up to stroke her feathers with a shaking hand. "I thought you didn't get out of there in time."

She gently bit his finger, telling him she was okay. "We're not out of danger yet, though. We need to get out of here and find some help."

She ruffled her wings a bit before taking flight once more. Harry wished she would have stayed. He was afraid of losing her, as he had Hedwig. The thought of his old snowy owl left him feeling a bit saddened.

A distant call from Iris told him that she was trying to lead him somewhere. He shook his head a bit and stretched his senses out, trying to find the life around him. He was happy to find that there was quite a bit of it, and he could easily guide himself around without too much trouble. The sight hadn't adapted enough for him to do major things on his own, but he was still improving.

Groaning on behalf of his aching body, he began walking in the direction that his familiar led him. The ground wasn't as cluttered with leaves like where he usually stayed, and the ground was harder. His feet hurt a bit more with each step, but he would continue to walk until he could go no further.

So, he set off into the distant darkness of Fangorn Forest, and into the unknown, only hoping to get away from the foul creatures that now invaded his new home.

* * *

They were following a river, Harry noticed. He amused himself by focusing on and watching the shining forms of the fish that swam about in the shallow parts of the water. Iris was flying up ahead - he could make her out through the foliage of tree's and other greenery around them.

He noted that she seemed a bit hesitant in the past half hour, stopping occasionally on a branch and listening to things that Harry couldn't hear.

At the moment, she had paused in her flight and landed on a small boulder covered in moss. Harry walked over to where she was and sat down tiredly, not caring that the moss would more than likely stain his cloak.

"Finally," he muttered jokingly, earning a nip on the wrist. He winched a bit, but otherwise, he didn't complain.

A small wind blew around them, threatening to knock Harry's cloak off his head. He pulled it up further, not wanting the wind to blow his overly long hair around. It hadn't been cut since way before he had fallen into this other world, and he found it quite annoying now that it swept down past his shoulders. Plus, there was the fact that he disliked it even more now that he knew it wasn't black anymore.

The night the spell had transported him to Middle Earth, it had taken all pigments from his eyes, skin, and hair. Ashtwig had told him about his appearance, causing him much distress. The main reason was because he lost the only thing he had of his parents - a mixture of his looks. The second reason was - he must look like Draco Malfoy.. Only with long hair.

Grimacing at the mere thought, he shook his head and tried to get the thoughts of his old friends, family, and enemies out of his head. He had long ago learned to accept the fact that he may not get home, but he still had hope in his heart for home.

Harry was just about to stretch out under the tree and doze off when Iris let out a loud screech, wrenching him into standing position. His senses flared into full force; even though it wasn't exactly any better than when he would just walk around.

He stood in position, wand in hand and his other hand on the sword at his side. Even if he didn't know how to use Gryffindor's sword correctly, he had at least had some experience with the Basalisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

The wind picked up and he caught a strong amount of life coming from somewhere in the bushes to his right. He gulped - whatever it was, he could tell it was powerful. And as powerful as it's life burned, Harry knew that it wouldn't go down easily by instinct. Fear flooded his senses.

He just hoped he wouldn't be the one to go down first.

* * *

A/N: Sorry guys. This was… er… a bit rushed, so it sorta' sucks. I had to re-write what I had before because my sister went through the computer and deleted all files - including all my story files. But I wont use that as an excuse. I've been lazy, tired, and busy, so that's why I haven't updated until now. I've gotten a new job, and all that, so I've had no time to do anything. I thought my old job was bad with taking my time - This one is much, much, much worse! But… please bare with me. - Min. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings books and or movies is not mine. Neither is the idea of 'The Sight' which I got from the series, The Lost Years of Merlin.

**--Chapter Break-- **

Thanks for everyone who reviewed. I really hadn't expected so many reviews and hits for this story. Thank you all!

A/N: Anyways, uh. Sorry about the lateness of the chapter. I've been skimming through the LoTR books to get a good feel of how the story should go, but between work and my social life, I've had hardly any time. But right now, I have some time and I want to update this. Thanks for all who stay with me on this! Also, this chapter will move a bit fast with the events (things will happen quickly, in my opinion).

**--Chapter Break-- **

Seeing An Eternity

By: xScenex

Chapter Three

**--Chapter Break-- **

_Previously: _

_The wind picked up and he caught a strong amount of life coming from somewhere in the bushes to his right. He gulped - whatever it was, he could tell it was powerful. And as powerful as it's life burned, Harry knew that it wouldn't go down easily by instinct. Fear flooded his senses. _

_He just hoped he wouldn't be the one to go down first. _

**--Chapter Break-- **

He walked cautiously through the foliage until he was sure he was close to the area where the essence of strong life came from. Iris, who had disappeared moments before into the canopy of leaves above, screeched a few times before falling completely silent.

Harry wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad one; but nonetheless, it didn't help how he was feeling. Would Iris be okay? Or did the Thing get her? He gulped, not sure if he wanted to continue into the dark, yet at the same time to him, shining forest.

The boy sheathed his sword slowly and quietly, hoping it made no sound.

He reached out his hands, letting them rest against the trunk of a large tree before he crouched down into the shrubs. He tried to be silent, and was quite successful. Then he listened.

There was a sound on the wind, almost like a humming. A strong, yet deep humming, coming from the northern direction he faced, on the other side of the tree he hid behind.

Maybe it was a person? He'd never encountered any other human being since he had fallen into Middle Earth, and although his doubts were high, it could actually be one. How much did he know about his sight? Almost nothing! For all he knew, human's souls could give off larger amounts of life than other beings.

The humming grew louder as he pondered through his thoughts. The shining outline of the life came into view on the left side of the tree. Harry pulled his cloak's hood up higher and sunk down further onto the soft soil.

"The Road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began," the humming soon became words that Harry had to strain to hear. "Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow if I can."

Harry shifted. It was a person - and elderly man by the outline he could see. But the power was just too much for an old man - unless, of course, he was like Dumbledore, then he was bound to have some powers.

"Pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say." The humming then followed a bit more loudly.

He didn't seem to be of any harm. Harry squinted slightly and the outlines became slightly more profound. He could see the tall shape of the man, standing proudly in the forest. But there was something else - something he held, that shone with life as well. But not actual life - almost artificial. It reminded him strongly of something he'd seen before, but he couldn't remember what it was. The ball of light was perched on something else, much like a long staff or stick.

A hoot echoed from somewhere near Harry, and he lifted his head up. A faint rustle of leaves, and the swish of wind and he knew that Iris was still there. Her call was a bit reassuring, as if telling him to go for it. She flew towards the person and circled him a few times. He could see the man falter in his steps as he stared up at the bird.

"I hope you know what you're doing, girl," Harry muttered under his breath. He slowly stood up and crept out of the bush as quietly as possible - which proved to slow him down a lot. It took him almost a whole minute to disentangle himself from the branches. By then, the person had moved on and was further up the path with the owl continuously flying around him.

Harry made sure that his hood was low over his face before he began walking. He followed the man's steps as quickly as possible to catch up with him. Eventually, he was two yards away when he stopped purposely and his cloak swished about him, causing a loud rustling noise against the earth beneath his feet.

The figure in front of him faltered for the second time and turned on heel much more quickly than he had anticipated for an old man. He could give Dumbledore a run for his money, Harry thought almost sadly.

"Friend or enemy?" the voice from the man shouted, rough but strong. It startled Harry for a mere second.

"Depends on whether you are the friend, or the enemy," Harry responded as calmly as he could though his heart raced with the uncertainty. Adrenaline began to kick in.

"A wise choice of words," he responded, equally as calm. "You are no spawn of Saruman; I see no evil in you. You sound no older than a mere child, and are no taller than one by appearances. How did you come to be in this forest?"

Child? Harry felt his face flush slightly. "I've lived in Fangorn for a while now," he told the other reluctantly while stumbling over the foreign word momentarily. "About half a year or more. I lost track a while back."

"Are you traveling alone?" he questioned seriously.

"I am now," Harry gripped tightly onto his wand. He couldn't lose concentration. For all he knew, this man could be evil. But he had said something about that Saruman guy, and Harry vaguely recalled Ashtwig saying something about him. "I've been walking for hours, and you're the first I've run into."

"I would think, child, that I am the only other one who would dare enter such a forest. Dangers lurk in the shadows."

Harry gulped, but hastily put the thought of creatures into the back of his mind. He'd run into nothing of the sort since he'd been there.

"I don't believe that," he voiced his thoughts. "I haven't run into a single thing besides you in quite a while."

"Hmm, quite unusual," he responded. "May I ask your heritage?"

"Erm," the boy was unsure what the question was exactly asking of him. "I.. uh, I'm a half-blood."

There was a moments silence before a rather amused answer came. "Half-blood? Do you mean you are kin to the Elves?"

"Of course not," Harry mumbled under his breath. "I'm no elf. I'm a…"

"Pardon? My hearing is not what it used to be."

Harry hesitated. "I'm not an elf," he said again. "I'm a wizard."

He could feel the startled silence around him. "Never before have I heard of a Black Wizard. Your youth shows that you can not be a Istari."

Harry frowned, guessing that an 'Istari' was a wizard, "Bollocks."

"Pardon?"

Harry made a noise of frustration. He shifted his feet noisily, showing his annoyance and peered out from under his hood. "Bullshit! I can too use magic! See!" Harry whipped his wand out and a flurry of golden sparks erupted from the end. Of course, Harry couldn't see the color, but he could see where the fire and heat burned into the air, leaving empty voids in the spaces where they were ignited.

"Astounding. Quite unheard of," the man mumbled.

"Er," Harry didn't respond much to that. He was used to things being said like that, but he was still unsure. "What are you talking about?"

"I have known every Istari to ever subsist in Middle Earth, and all are no less than ninety-odd years. To add to the unlikeliest of the situation, there are only five of us. Did Manwë send you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and I'm not ninety years old," Harry said indignantly.

The one in front of him pondered, "How many years are you?"

Harry, confused and quite bewildered, looked upwards a bit more and his hood shifted away from his face and fell elegantly against his slender shoulders. "I'm almost seventeen years old."

The man in front of him froze, his body stiff.

"You are, yet are no child. Your eyes…"

"I'm blind, yes," Harry spat angrily, his annoyance getting the better of him. "So what? I'm still capable of things!" He felt more sparks erupt from his wand at his temper.

"You have seen much," the old man continued as if he hadn't heard anything Harry said. "Death… destruction… the pain and sorrow reflects from you. What is your name, child?"

Harry seethed quietly, but the anger was slowly dying down. He felt that the man wasn't intending any offense. "My names Harry."

"Harry.. Odd name, but suitable. I am Gandalf, the White. I was once Gandalf the Grey, as most know me by."

The title baffled Harry. "The White.. Grey?"

"You, being a wizard, should know what our titles mean… although, I cannot say that I know what yours is. I've only know White, Grey, Blue, and Brown."

Sighing regrettably, Harry shook his head. Maybe that's what the guy meant when he mentioned a 'black wizard' earlier. "I couldn't tell you if I knew… er, Gandoof. This is what I was required to wear at school."

There was a small stretch of silence before the other said anything. "You are strange," he mumbled, just loud enough for Harry to hear. "You look like an elf, but claim to be a Maia - a young one, at that, and you seem too wise for a child."

"I heard that," Harry said, his voice laced with disgruntlement.

A small chuckle was all he heard. "Where are you headed to, Harry?"

Uh. "No where, actually." he answered sheepishly. He turned away from the man and scanned the tree-tops. "I just came to you because my friend wanted me to."

"Your friend?"

"Iris?" Harry called out. There was a small hoot and a noticeable rustle of leaves and he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder.

"The owl…" Gandoof, Harry mused at the name, whispered. "You have befriended a creature of Fangorn Forest. You truly must be remarkable, child."

"If only you knew the half of it," Harry grumbled, receiving a hard peck on the ear by Iris.

"I'm sorry, child, but what was that? You'll have to speak up."

"Nothing," Harry sighed. "So what are.. Uh, you doing out here? I thought you said it was dangerous."

"It is," was the response. "But I'm here on a quest."

Quest, Harry thought idly. So this really was a world of medieval government. But the boy was intrigued, "What kind of quest?"

"One to stop Saruman's from ruling Middle Earth."

There's the mention of that guy again. "Who's Saruman? I've heard of him from… from someone, but I've never really heard why he's so bad."

"He is known as Saruman, the White, one of the five Maia."

"What are maia? You've said that word a few times, but I have no idea what it is." Harry looked around, and realized that the sky seemed to be darkening, giving that the life around him seemed to hush to a quite pulse and the light dimmed slightly.

"They are Istari, wizards. We were send to Middle Earth shortly after the defeat of Sauron."

Harry interrupted, "Who's Sauron?"

"He was once known as the Dark Lord of Mordor."

"Sounds like Voldemort to me," Harry muttered, unheard. After a moment, he turned back to Gandoof. "You never told me what was so bad about this Saruman."

The older man, or wizard as he claimed to be, settled himself on the ground under a nearby tree. Harry was a bit surprised to see the man act so casually around a stranger, but then again, the people in Middle Earth would be different than the ones he knew from his world. Things seemed more casual here.

Cautiously, Harry peered around himself, noting that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He, too, took a seat under the canopy of leaves, a few feet in front of Gandoof.

"He wants the One Ring for himself."

"The One Ring?"

"It was forged, long ago, to dominate the other nine rings of power made by the Elves." Harry didn't even want to ask what that was about, and listened at the man continued. "Saruman believes himself to be above any of the other Istari, and is inclined on taking over Middle Earth. His desire for the ring was clear, and his alliance was formed with Sauron."

"But isn't Sauron dead?" Harry questioned, pulling his cloak tightly around him. Iris fluttered off his shoulder and landed on a branch a few yards above him.

"Maia never truly die," Gandoof told him.

"But wizards where I come from do die. They live longer than muggles, but they die eventually," Harry said sadly.

"Where you come from?"

"Yes… er." He forgot about that. Of course this stranger wouldn't have any idea of what Harry was talking about. "You see, I'm… I'mnotfromthisworld."

The last bit was spoken in a rush and his hand tightened on his wand. He wasn't sure how another wizard, one which, he assumed, had more power than he would take the fact that hew as from another universe.

Obviously, his jumbled up words did get heard. "Not from this world? Child, have you hit your head recently?"

Glaring silently at the elderly wizard, Harry scowled. "I wouldn't lie about that. I wasn't sure where I was until I met Ashtwig, and he came up with the theory of me being from another world. He said that there were may reasons, because one, like you said yourself, there are only five wizards in this Middle Earth place. Two, I have no idea of what this place really is, only of mine, where there's a large community of wizards and witches."

"A community of wizards?" Gandoof asked thoughtfully. "That's definitely unheard of."

Harry huffed quietly. "Do you believe me?"

"Do I have much of a choice?" came the reply.

Harry shrugged.

"Now I know what you were doing in this forest," mused the other. Harry looked at him, and twitched. "You were with an Ent, if I remember Ashtwig being one."

Harry nodded slowly. "He was the first that I met here."

"An amusing start on a journey," the other said thoughtfully.

"He was a great friend, and helped me come to terms with my… loss of sight. But he showed me that there are other ways to See, other than with images."

"I was curious about that," the wizard replied. "I noticed that you did not move around like that of a blind one, but moved as if with ease of your surroundings. How is it that you can see, though?"

Harry gave him a small smile, "I can see the life of things."

"Intriguing. Well then-"

But he didn't finish his sentence. Before he could, there came a loud sound, much like that of someone, or something, crashing through the brush.

The man in front of him stood up quickly and Harry followed suit, holding his wand in hand and crouching down in a dueling stance.

"What was that?" he hissed, scanning the surrounding area. He could sense life again, so it wasn't the Orc's. "It's not those Orc's…"

The man beside him didn't say anything but eventually straightened up and gave a small chuckle.

"This seems to be turning into quite the party," he muttered.

Harry gave the man an incredulous look before whirling around as whatever was making the noise burst from the bushes behind him. He gaped, seeing to midget sized forms stumbling onto the ground before them.

"Uh.." he held out his wand, unsure. They looked short enough to be children.

"It's alright, Harry. I know these two."

At Gandoof's voice, the two new people looked up and shouted in unison, "Gandalf!"

Gandalf? Oops.

**--Chapter End--**

A/N: It's been a while. Yes, yes, shame on me. But anyways - there's a reason to why this is like it is. Any questions you ask will be answered, as long as they're not to expose the whole plot. I know I left this at a cliffhanger, but I'm tired and I don't want to write any more at the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

****

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter and Lord of the Ring books and/or movies is not mine.

* * *

A/N: Okay. Long time, no update, yeah? I have no excuse to that except for the fact that after what I did have written got deleted, I just gave up on it. Sad, really, but I had no motivation to write the chapter again. But now that I'm sick at home with pneumonia, I decided that I should catch up on this a bit. Sorry about the long wait, guys. I really shouldn't have given up like that. 

So, this chapter isn't great. I haven't written this in such a long time and I haven't gotten the feel of it again, yet. Hopefully it's not too bad. Please tell me what you think so that I can try to improve it.

**Thanks** Uranophobic, HarbringerLady, Twin Tails Speed, stuck-in-a-tree, emeraud.silver, Cherri202, xwolfpupx, TanyaPotter, JuMiKu, jka1, anti-thule, angelkitty77, I-Y-T-Y, Shadow Bete Noire, Skullera, AmethystSiri, Jesp-R, Cap'n BlackRose, Haljaruna, hittocerebattosai, bandgsecurtiyaw, Elys, Myrr, lady sakura cosmos, Ratchadewi, Sssnitch, Dadaiiro, BratCat, Wraith, Ragnhild, RavenXI, crazysquirl, Wolven Spirits, Dr. Masaki, HarrySlytherinson, XinnLajgin, joeb303, koldy, DeAtHsTeNsHi, SwiftShadow, neko-in-tears, Draco is my King, Illucia, Jaryd Alderis, PurelyExplosiv, Heavenly Dancer, and Dragonzice **for all the wonderful reviews!**

* * *

Seeing an Eternity

By: xScenex

Chapter Four

* * *

Previously:

"It's alright, Harry. I know these two."

At Gandoof's voice, the two new people looked up and shouted in unison, "Gandalf!"

Gandalf? Oops.

* * *

Harry felt blood rise from his neck to his face when he realized the mistake in the elder mans name, but soon his embarrassment turned into suspicion as the two newcomers finally scrambled to their feet and bowed deeply to the taller wizard beside him.

"Gandalf! Gandalf!" a younger sounding voice piped up. He sounded as if he was shocked.

The other cried out, "Gandalf? But - but you -"

"We thought you died!"

Gandalf chuckled deeply, and Harry cast him a questionable look.

"Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck. Hobbits of the Shire."

"Pairof… what?"

"Simply Merry and Pippin will do," Gandalf chuckled and waved towards the pair in front of them. Only then did Harry realize that those were the two small men's names.

"Who is he, Gandalf?" asked who he suspected to be 'Pippin', the younger one.

Gandalf motioned towards Harry, who in turn, inclined his head slightly. "He calls himself Harry, the Black."

"He's a wizard?"

"So it seems."

Harry shot a very disgruntled look at the other, but he didn't say anything as Gandalf interrupted any other speech.

"Why are the two of you here? Where is the rest of the Fellowship?"

There was some shifty silence before either or the small men replied. The older, Merry, spoke up.

"We were captured, Gandalf. The Orcs - Uruk-hai got us! We were passing over Amon Hen when they attacked!"

"We had been looking for Frodo, when they ambushed us," Pippin nodded enthusiastically. "Boromir had - h…"

Harry noted that his enthusiasm slowly abated into silence. He felt slightly out of place, but it was interesting to say the least. He'd had no other human - or close to human - contact in so long that he wasn't eager to leave it behind.

Pippin shook his head slowly, but Harry was able to distinguish the movement. "Boromir… died trying to save us."

His head bowed, as did Merry's. Gandalf stood in silence, then he, too, bowed his head.

"'Tis a great saddness, to lose a Steward of Gondor."

Merry sniffed loudly, and his friend actually began sobbing. Harry felt so unsure of himself, standing there within a group of friends that mourned for someone.

He took a few steps back away from the circle of strangers, but a strong hand came to rest on his shoulder. He looked up to see the form of Gandalf next to him.

"Stay, child. This is no place for you to adventure. You will dwell with us, a while."

"I don't want to intrude," he said honestly. "It wouldn't be right."

"To let a child, foreign to the surrounding land, adventure alone would not be reasonable, either," Gandalf spoke; his earnest tone was sincere.

"Stay with us Master Harry," Pippin spoke up with a slightly thick voice as he wiped at tears on his face. "The larger the party, the merrier. Especially in these woods."

Harry grimaced at the name, but shrugged his slender shoulders elegantly. "Fine then."

Besides, he had no where else to go. He had just been wondering around, aimlessly.

"Splendid," Gandalf said in such a tone that reminded Harry so strongly of Dumbledore that he nearly gagged, but was able to hide his discomfort before it was noticeable.

"Can we rest, and maybe eat before we go further?" Merry asked eagerly out of nowhere.

The older wizard chuckled and nodded. "It is nearly dusk already, and wondering in the dark will get us nowhere. We will be safe till dawn."

Sighing happily, the two short men literally flopped down on the soft soil. Harry, though stood and watched as the older man slowly sat down against the trunk of a large tree.

"Got anything to eat, Gandalf? We haven't eaten anything proper in days," the younger one asked keenly.

"Sadly, young Hobbit, I do not. We will have to find berries, or some fruit for the night."

"I don't trust eating fruit growing here," Merry intoned. "I've heard bad things about this forest."

"You've probably heard right," Gandalf said solemnly. "But we will have to make do with what we have."

Harry shifted and pulled his hood back up. "I've lived here for a few months now - I know some of the more edible things in this forest. I can help you find some if you like."

Gandalf laid his staff down across his lap. "Great idea, Harry."

He wasn't sure how to reply to that, so he turned around and began walking off. He figured that the old man wouldn't get up to help, as the whole group seemed exhausted - even if the wizard didn't sound, his energy quivered with the fatigue.

Harry had entered the foliage towards where he had first came and started walking back to the river him and Iris had followed a long ways. He could catch some fish there for them to cook - although only few were actually good.

He was close to the river, when he heard cracking leaves and twigs behind him, and a huffing voice called out.

"Master Harry! I'll help you - wait up!"

He turned, slightly surprised and slightly bewildered. He hadn't expected one of the small men to follow but Gandalf had probably sent him to make sure that Harry would return.

He asked unsurely, "Pippin - right?"

The man nodded eagerly as he came up to Harry - the top of his head came up to Harry's collarbone. Harry was short, but this man had to be a midget.

"Just Harry, please," he said, his voice slightly annoyed. 'Master' reminded him too much of what Dobby would say.

"Harry, then. How come you know your way around here so much?" came the response.

He gave a sideways glance at the man, but answered nonetheless. "I've lived here for nearly half a year. Not in this area, though, but I've been through here recently today."

"Lived? But isn't it dangerous here?"

"Yes," he responded, but smiled. "If you run into the wrong people I guess. I've only ever ran into animals, and an Ent. Nothing too harmful at least."

"An Ent? I thought those were legend."

"They're real," Harry nearly laughed. "I thought I was hallucinating when I first met Ashtwig, but eventually I got used to the idea of a talking tree."

Pippin drew in a sharp breath. "Shh, they'll hear you!"

Harry looked at him incredulously, then laughed outright. The other didn't seem to mind as he chuckled slightly, but still looked around in unease.

"There are none around, trust me. I'd know."

"You can sense them?"

"In a way. I actually see them, but in a different way than you do, I guess."

"Oh."

Harry smiled, his face shadowed by his hood. It was actually nice to talk to someone other than a wise Ent who spoke in riddles and wonders.

"So… what are _you_?" Harry questioned. It was starting to annoy him - he didn't want to ask if the man was a midget, in literal terms, but he was getting really frustrated not knowing.

The grin was obvious in Pippin's voice. "I'm a hobbit! Not many people know of us, as the Shire is hidden."

"Shire?"

"That's where us Hobbits lived before we set out with Frodo."

Harry nearly gagged. What was with the names?

"Are you alright, Mas- I mean, Harry?" Pippin asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he said with a hint of a laugh. "So.. Uh, who's this Fro-toe?"

"Fro-_do._ He's… one of our friends. One of the Fellowship, he is."

"What's this 'Fellowship' everyone keeps talking about?" Harry asked as they finally came up to the river's bank. He peered over at the water and could see the distant, shiny life of the fish in the depths of the water.

"Are we catching fish?" Pippin inquired curiously while looking down into the dark water.

"We're going to try," he replied, and smiled. "So?"

Pippin looked slightly uneasy in his stance for a second. "I'm not sure if I should tell you, but I trust you not to go telling everyone. We were formed as a kind of group - Me, Merry, Frodo, Sam - we're all hobbits, Strider, Boromir-" his voice cracked slightly. "Legolas - he's an elven prince, Gimli, and of course, Gandalf."

"Oh. What do you do?"

"Protect the Ring," Pippin said unsurely. "Well, protect Frodo, more like it."

"The Ring? The one that Saruman is after?"

"You know?" came the surprised question.

"Gandalf said something about it earlier. Forged to dominate the other rings, and such. Is it really that bad?"

He saw Pippin shrug out of the corner of his eye. "Not too sure myself, but it seems that way."

Harry shook his head and shrugged off his cloak. He'd been fishing a few times with the help of Ashtwig, but had nearly drowned the first few times because of the lack of telling what way was up and down when he dived in deep water. He had gotten better at it, eventually and hoped he would have no problems with it now.

"Are you going in there?" squeaked the 'hobbit' with an awed voice.

"Yeah. Only way to catch the fish - they're close to the bottom. It's not too deep, so it can't be too bad."

Harry pulled his hair back with a tiny rope from inside his pocket so that it wouldn't get in his way.

"But - what if there's something in there? You wont be able to tell - I can't even see fish in that water! I don't trust it!"

"It's fine, actually." Harry grinned mysteriously at the man. "Just, if I don't come up in an hour, you'll know something's wrong."

"But -"

"Trust me, on this. I'm a wizard - I know what I'm doing," he said, using that fact to his advantage.

"Okay.. Can I do anything while you're fishing?"

Thoughtfully, Harry tapped his chin. There were a few waterbed plants that were edible and would taste well in a vegetable based soup.

"If you want, you can help find a few plants for a soup." He kneeled down and reached forward into the water at the bank. The mud underneath the water was cold, but Harry ignored it and dug into it, feeling for roots. Finally, he found what he needed and pulled up a handful of roots and shook the mud off.

They were the color of a dark olive - or appeared to be to Harry.

"See these?" he asked, holding them up to Pippin.

"Those look nasty," came the response.

"But they taste good - just find some of these for me. It's one of the only edible things you'll find around here."

"Alright."

Harry smiled and turned back to the water. He decided that it would be best to keep the majority of his clothes dry, since he didn't feel like wasting time in trying to get them clean - a scrougify spell only worked for so much. So he stripped down to his boxers before taking his first few steps in the water.

Pippin watched him from the bank, digging in the water and muddying his hands. "Be careful!"

"I'll be fine," Harry said with disgruntlement. He'd always hated being babied by people.

The water that slapped around his ankles was icy. He shivered slightly, but otherwise took it well as he waded further until it was up to his waist. He paused there, and stared down into the water so that he could find out just how he should catch the fish.

They didn't seem fast - nor did they seem bothered by the interruption of Harry's legs in the current. They obviously weren't used to being hunted.

Harry lent his upper body forward slightly and flicked his wand out of the holster on his wrist. He held the tip under the water before he forced a stream hot water towards the fish.

In a matter of seconds, the fish scattered, but half a dozen of them hadn't been so lucky to get away - they were hit by the water and in moments, they floated upwards towards Harry unconscious.

Harry grinned, tipped his wand back into the holder, and called out to Pippin, "Here's dinner!"

He gathered up the wet, slippery fish in his arms before he lugged them back to the bank and dropped them onto a pile of grass next to the hobbit.

"How'd you catch so many like that?"

"Magic."

The hobbit stared up in wonder at Harry. "Even Gandalf wouldn't do that."

"I'm not him, though. My magic is kind of different."

"Different?"

"Yeah… see-" Harry brought his wand out one more time and with a mere whispered spell, the water on his body dried.

"Wow! What else can you do?" the excited man asked, standing up to examine the end of his wand. Harry unsurely lowered it away from the others face.

"I can't do a lot of stuff - not a lot compared to others, but I know a decent amount of things."

"Will you show me sometime?" he asked, picking up the pile of plants he'd pulled up in the short time that Harry had been 'fishing'.

"Yeah, sure. I wouldn't mind practicing a bit, myself."

Harry was about to ask him what he'd like to see, but instead, he heard a loud noise - it was Pippin's stomach.

The other laughed slightly, "Guess I haven't eaten in a while."

"Then lets get back and get this cooked. I'm hungry, myself." It was true - he hadn't really eaten in a while either.

Slipping his pants back on, he slung his shirt and his cloak over one shoulder and scooped the fish up in his arms again. No use in getting his shirt dirty.

Pippin gathered up the rest of the reeds, commenting on the fact that they still didn't look edible. Harry only laughed, and led the way back to the others.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Finally! I hope you guys don't hate me too much - I'll try to make the next update a lot quicker. And I mean A LOT quicker. This chapter was mainly just introduction, I guess. Nothing much happens. Maybe I'll get some action into the next one, but I'm not too sure how that one will go. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed!

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: It's been way too long. I doubt many people will still read this story, as I've definitely fallen out of tune with the writing. I want honest reviews, telling me if you like this or not. It was hard to jump into the plot again, but if you think it's still okay, then I'll continue to update. Anyway, onwards!

* * *

The distant crackle of fire jolted Harry awake. He felt a frantic wave of horror sweep through his body and he nearly jumped out of his make-shift pallet until he realized it was only the sound of the camp side fire, sputtering into the night .

"S'wrong, Harry?" he heard Pippin call out from the other side of the fire, his voice uneasy.

"It's nothing, just nerves, is all." his response was quick and a near whisper, but the other fell silent.

His heart raced, and his body quivered from his self induced adrenaline rush. He rubbed at his forehead and breathed in deeply, shifting on the hard ground so that he lay on his side, back to the fire. He didn't want Pippin to be staring at him but he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand high and he knew there were eyes trained on him.

They had been as a party of four in the Fangorn Forest for over two days and he was exhausted from the continuous questioning of the Hobbits and the watchful eye of Gandalf. It didn't help that he couldn't sleep, his ears always reaching out to hear any strange noises. His mind raced, going from his old life to his worry about his friend Ashtwig. He hoped to Merlin that the Ent had been able to get to safety.

He shut his eyes tightly, even though it didn't do him any good. He wanted to press the images of burning forest out of his mind, the essence of dying life fading as he watched, shriveling in the flames and heat. His mind echoed the horrible sounds of Orcs, calling out into the forest of newly born inferno, chasing him with their axes.

"UGH," came his frustrated sigh. He sat up.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Pippin queried, shifting. He stared at Harry with a peculiar look on his face.

"I'm fine. I just can't sleep. I'll take over so you can get some rest. No use in both of us being up when you can be sleeping."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice slightly hopeful.

"Yeah, I'll wake Gandalf up if I get tired."

Pippin nodded, stifling a yawn before he took his place close to the fire, wrapping up in his cloak. It wasn't five seconds later and Harry could hear his snoring.

Said boy stood near the fire for a minute until the heat made him move to a nearby tree. He leaned his form against it, sighing. The darkness didn't bother him so much, as he could still see the life all around him. It quivered in the wind, shifting and shaking, a soft pulse in the darkness. He wouldn't look at the fire often; it seemed to just eat away at the air around it, a black void of destruction.

Once more his mind wandered off to Ashtwig. Surely he was alright. An Ent could take down Orcs, right? Something his size wouldn't go down easily and he was sturdy enough. He wrapped his cloak tightly around his shoulders as he began having doubts. Ents were slow and there were just so many Orcs that night.　Harry pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and hunched his shoulders. He decided he would have faith in his friends survival and safety. There was no use in worrying over it - there was no turning back.

So, instead, the boy turned his attention over to where the elder wizard slumbered. He studied the radiant glow of the man, then set his 'sight' onto the elders staff, where the luminescent light sparkled from the short distant. It was odd, seeing a wizard use a staff instead of a wand.

It must have been so much bulkier and harder to carry around, Harry mused. Then again, it was probably more potent and powerful.

He knew very little of this wizard, nor his companions. The two 'Halflings' as Gandalf had referred to them just yesterday, were comical and hardly fighters. He had no idea why they were tagging along on a dangerous journey through the woods. If this 'one ring' was really as dangerous as they deemed it to be, then why would they be willing to endanger themselves, especially without actual knowledge of what they faced?

Unless, Harry thought to himself, they were pushed into the situation as I had been in my world. No choice, no decisions, just… BAM. Right in the middle of the mess.

This made Harry smile grimly now, realizing that he too had been forced into this mess. He knew very little of what lie in this world and it seemed that he'd be following this broken part of the fellowship around for some time; at least until something else came along.

If this world was really as Gandalf had said it to be, then this Sauron was their version of his Voldemort. If he really wanted the 'one ring' for himself, then this group was definitely hunted. By what and whom, exactly, Harry didn't know. He couldn't imagine anything worse than the horrid Orc's from before.

"Bollocks," he whispered into the dark, his gaze shifting into the dense setting of trees around him. The night was silent besides the quiet snores of his companions and the soft crackle of the fire.

It was almost eerie. He never noticed it before - maybe that was only because he felt safe with Ashtwig but now he fully understood why this forest was mentioned to be dangerous. Who knew what lurked in the shadows? Who knew what Middle Earth creatures waited out there that he could not sense. He hadn't been able to sense the Orcs until they were right up on him. That was an experience he would rather not encounter again.

He shivered now, imagining the grizzly war cries from the nasty beasts. The stench. The death and destruction they brought with them.

But this night was different, he noted, his gaze drifting to the dark foliage across from the fire. There was something in the air that he couldn't put his finger on. It didn't feel good. He fingered his wand in its holster, making sure it was with him.

A soft flutter from above drew his attention. Iris had landed on a branch above Harry, a mouse in her beak. She cooed softly, then soared down to land on the ground next to the blonde boy.

"Hey girl," he said softly, reaching out to stroke her on the head. She nipped gently at his fingers, before turning her attention to her meal.

Harry relaxed. She would be staying with him the rest of the night, he knew. He leaned back a bit against the rough bark of the large tree behind him and sighed. There would be no sleep for him this night. At least the others would get their rest.

But as the night drew on, Harry just couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. It was like an ominous cloud of foreboding lingered on the horizon, waiting for the 'morn.

So he waited, a drowsiness slowly encasing him, hoping that everything would be alright.

* * *

There was fire and destruction everywhere.

He'd never felt such an extreme amount of despair and horror - it coursed through him against his own will.

He was flying; shifting through broken landscapes faster than he could keep up with. There was smoke, terror, and fire everywhere. The ground was scattered with ghastly beasts and screams from terrified victims.

But that's not what caught Harry's attention.

He felt it - searching, looking; what was searching, he couldn't figure out.

He blinked and found himself atop a high black tower, looming over a vast construction where Orc's lumbered, metal clanged, and the stench of darkness loomed. His heart jumped into his throat - it was so horrible. The wind blasted at his face, howling angrily at the world. Lightning struck in the distance over the horizon. He did not like what he saw there.

He wanted to run away as fast as he could but he was held, rooted to the spot. Then, as if something had sensed his desperation to escape, he found himself completely engulfed in a red hue, like a giant, molten fire. It was the epitome of Hell; then he saw it - the searcher.

It had found him.

A great eye stared back at him, whispering foreign words to him, willing him - persuading him. He felt drawn to the eye, even as terror and revulsion swept through his form. He tried to tear his eyes away from the frightening thing, but the more he struggled, the further he was drawn in. He was overwhelmed to the point where he was almost panicking.

"NO!" he heard himself shout over the horrible wind.

"… find me the ring…"

"NO!" he found himself shouting. It was almost as if his shout had silenced it all. There was no wind, no voice. The eye was gone.

In fact, he was sitting upright, having jolted upwards from what had apparently been a dream.

"Young master Harry, are you alright?" he heard a voice next to him and whipped his head around. Gandalf had hurried to his side.

"Y-yeah," he began, his voice slightly hoarse. "I'm fine."

"Hmm."

"Seriously, sir, I'm fine. Honestly," Harry insisted, feeling his face flush. Why was he cursed into having bad nightmares for the majority of his life?

"I'd beg a different story, Harry," the elder wizard insisted, his bushy eyebrows raising in accusation. "Your shout could raise the spirits of the dead, had there been any around this dreaded place."

The boy flushed deeply. "I just had a odd dream."

"Indeed," was all the wizard said. He stepped away from Harry, pulling a pipe out of a pocket. Harry watched as he lit it and took a deep drag. "It would be time we woke the others to break a quick fast before we head out for the 'morn. I would like to leave this forest behind me soon…"

Harry nodded readily, happy to change the subject. As the elder turned his back, he shuddered violently. He couldn't shake off the feeling that his nightmare had been a bad omen of sorts. Instinct told him to wary this day.

The next hour included waking Merry and Pippin up, although how they slept through his mishap he wouldn't understand, getting them to eat leftover berries and vegetable stew from the night before. As they washed and gathered up what little they had, Harry called for Iris.

She flew down from her perch atop a large oak tree and rested on Harry's shoulder. "Girl, help me keep an eye out today. I don't have a good feeling."

She nipped his ear slightly and took off again in an affirmative.

Harry checked to make sure his wand and sword was in the proper place. He was ready for whatever the day would bring.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time they rested again. Harry was feeling exhausted now, having slept very little the night before. The others must have felt the same because there was hardly any talk and the hobbits, who usually chattered nonchalantly were depressingly quiet. The air felt thick and made it hard for him to concentrate, and he could tell that Gandalf felt it too.

"There's something amiss," Harry intoned quietly, observing his surroundings as he sat on a small boulder.

"Hmm, yes my boy, I think you are right," Gandalf agreed, puffing on his pipe again. "There is an evil presence lurking about."

Harry's heart skipped. The image of Orc's filled his mind. "What do you mean? Are there creatures out here?"

The wizard was quiet a moment before he said, "Alas, I cannot tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself..."

Harry decided to concentrate. He scanned the tree line, taking his time to study the pulsing life that surrounded the party. There was nothing amiss, it seemed, to him. Iris had flown ahead a bit, scouting ahead, he assumed. They were silent for a long while, listening to the soft breeze rustling the many leaves overhead. After a while, the silence was broken by one of the Halflings.

"Master Harry," Merry began, his voice a bit matter-of-factly.

He jumped, unaware that the Halfling had come up beside him.

"Just Harry, please," he corrected, inwardly wincing at the title.

"Pippin said you'd show him some of your fancy magic sometime."

"Oh, er'…" Harry looked at Gandalf uncertainly. The elder just smiled and inclined his head towards Harry, who promptly looked back at Merry. He had a feeling that Gandalf himself wanted to see the extent of his magic, as well. So, slight hesitation, he asked, "What would you like to, uh, see?"Pippin's head snapped up quickly from his seat not too far away. "What can you do?"

Harry raked his mind for simple spells. He thought of a few charms he'd used in Flitwick's class and a fair few transfiguration spells, so he reached over and grabbed a fist sized rock off the ground. He sat it in his lap and snapped his wand out of its homemade holster.

At this, Gandalf even watched in earnest. Harry pointed the tip of his wand at the rock and whispered an incantation, "Avifors!" and before their eyes it shifted shape until it was morphed into a animated bird. It was slightly squat, with a grainy texture to its wings, but it nonetheless chirped out a soft note and fluffed its wings. Its beady eyes watched him with interest.

"WOW!" Pippin exclaimed, leaping up to examine the bird with earnest.

"Extraordinary!" Merry stared in awe as the rock-turned-bird. "Imagine that, Pip! Turning a ordinary rock into a bird!"

"Quite the accomplishment," Gandalf murmured. Even he got up to examine the transfiguration with curiosity. "Does it react as if it were a real bird?"

Harry shrugged, "More or less. After a while it will turn back into a rock, but until then, I'm sure it can fly and stuff."

He watched as Pippin prodded it with his finger, almost as if he were scared to touch it, and the rock-turned-creature let out a squawk before hobbling out of Harry's lap and taking flight before landing several yards away.

"What else can you do?" Merry questioned, excited.

"Oh, just little tricks," Harry muttered. He pointed his wand at a strange looking fruit that hung from a tree that was a fair distance from them. "Accio, fruit!"

The fruit snapped off its stem and came flying towards them, the Hobbits ducking while Harry reached out to catch it in his hand. "I know a lot of small. handy magic. I can make things float, hover, I can transfigure several different things, I can make some potions, and of course, there's the mandatory defensive and offensive spells and hexes."

"What's a hex?" Pippin inquired, dumbfounded.

"Something I'd rather only use on an enemy," he answered with a slight grin before he pointed his wand at Merry and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The Hobbit promptly lifted off the ground slowly and squealed loudly in horror. "What are you doing? Let me down! Pippin, help!"

Gandalf snorted as Harry hovered him four feet off the ground, moving him around Pippin as the smaller Hobbit tried to jump up and pull him down. After about a minute of this, he let Merry go.

"Now _that_ was uncalled for, that was," his chest puffed out indignantly when his feet were safely on the ground again.

Pippin turned large eyes on Harry. "Please don't do that to me, Master Harry!"

Harry laughed. Merry glared at the both of them but couldn't help but slip out a small grin, himself.

They all laughed for a while. They carried on for a while longer until Harry hushed them. He'd just heard a loud screech from a couple meters away. He snapped his head up and stared through the pulsing foliage in the distance. He could make out the form of Iris flapping crazily through the trees, giving out calls of distress.

Harry hopped up just as Gandalf did. The Hobbits looked around nervously and Harry strained his ears. He heard something - it was a distant thrum of what sounded like metal hacking at wood; his legs felt like lead.

"I think we have company," Harry began nervously, gripping onto his wand tightly. His other hand reached to the hilt of Godric Griffindors sword.

Gandalf took on an instant air of authority. "Stand back, Hobbits. Get behind Harry and I."

They did just that, and Iris landed in a tree, frantic. She screeched, looking down at Harry. He glanced up, noting that she was panicked herself, having been frightened by the obvious pulsation of her life-form.

Nothing good could come from this, he realized. He recognized the sound from ahead - it was Orc's and by the sound of it, there were quite a few of them.

It didn't take long, as Iris' screeching had alerted the enemy that something was awry. It seemed like only seconds later, there was a great thrashing and Harry had to concentrate on the direction in which the noise came from to be able and zone in on the enemy's.

"Are those Orcs?" Harry asked, petrified. The stench was already wafting towards them.

"Uruk-hai," Gandalf said tightly.

He understood. They were larger than the ones he remembered ecountering.

"It's them!" Pippin yelped in horror. "Those were in the party that kidnapped us!"

Gandalf turned to them, "Fly, fool! Go back the way we came! They will only take you again!"

The Hobbits hesitated, and Harry shouted for them to go, mimicking Gandalf's authority. They didn't need to be told once more, as they bolted in the direction in which they came.

"I hope you're ready for this, Harry," Gandalf said, his voice grave.

Harry only nodded, and didn't have time to say anything as they burst through the undergrowth with leers of disgust and malicious joy, waving jagged weapon at them. There seemed to be a leader, who was the largest one of them all.

"Get the Hobbits!" the foul voice ground out roughly.

So they'd seen them. Harry cursed himself, before taking a fighting stance. He had only seconds to react before the Uruk-hai were on them and he shot off a series of spells.

"Expelliarmus! _STUPIFY_!"

Left and right he aimed, hitting several of them with the magic but he soon became confused, being unable to see them well. They would fall disgustingly to the ground, or their weapons would be wrenched out of their hands and their growls of anger sent his hair on end. In truth, he was scared witless, but the adrenaline was kicking in and he felt his blood pulsing in his temples. He wanted revenge on these creatures for taking over the forest.

He glanced at Gandalf, who was using his staff as a weapon over using spells. Harry made the mistake of staring for too long and a stray arrow caught him in the left shoulder. He let out a loud gasp and cast a late 'protego' charm on himself, just in time to block out another stray arrow.

He staggered slightly but flicked his wand, disarming another Uruk-hai. It leered at him stupidly and ripped a knife out of a holster on its waist and advanced on Harry. He could tell by the dense void of air that these were definitely foul creatures. They didn't pulse with life at all. It was as if there was a hole cut into the air in the shape of a deformed human.

He staggered back, his mind racing for a quick spell. "REDUCTO!"

The advancing Uruk promptly exploded out of his way. This caused a confused riot as the other Uruk-hai turned their attention to the explosion.

Harry was momentarily in a daze, the pain in his shoulder making him dizzy. He never imagined it would hurt so much. He staggered, reality becoming a vague thing. He glanced down at the arrow and noticed a purplish-black liquid oozing down the arrow shaft and his heart skipped. Was this arrow laced? Time seemed to slow down, and he felt sluggish. He lifted his wand up to cast another spell, knowing deep down he didn't have much time before he would be struck again if he didn't do anything.

He sent another 'reducto' spell out, effectively hitting another of the foul creatures. He heard Gandalf shout something, but at that moment, his hearing became muffled and he swore he could hear ringing. He stumbled again and his focus left him. He couldn't see well in the first place, now the pulsing life around him seemed to just fall in and out of his vision.

In a last attempt to help himself, he cast one more shield charm on himself, before his world faded completely black, and unconsciousness overtook him.

-----------

He felt warm. There was a blinding light behind his eyelids and he scrunched them up, turning his head to the side. He groaned at the pain that it caused him.

That was when he noticed just how sore he was. His whole body felt as if he'd fallen off a cliff. If he didn't know any better, he'd think all his bones were broken. His skin felt clammy, and he noticed with the movement of his head that his hair was coated in sweat.

"Uhn," he groaned. What had happened?

It took him a minute for the memories to kick in and flood his head, and when he realized that they'd been attacked by a party of Uruk-hai, as Gandalf had called them, and he practically shot up where he lay. That was a mistake.

He let out a loud gasping cry as a searing pain resided from his shoulder, causing him to fall back in a spasm.

"Mellon-nin," said a strange male voice. "Calm. Do not sit up."

"Ugh," was all Harry could say, his forehead breaking out in a new layer of sweat. His breath became ragged. The pain was so intense it made his body shake violently.

"Legolas, bring those herbs over here," the voice said again, commanding, and after a moment he felt something being pressed into the wound in his shoulder.

He clenched his teeth shut, and groaned slightly, his fingers digging into the dirt. Where was he and who were these people? Where were Gandalf and the Hobbits? He opened his eyes and found that he was still in the forest, the blinding light being that of the treetops in what appeared to be mid-afternoon.

He could only make out the figure of what appeared to be a full grown man, whom was leaning over him and prodding his wound.

"Who are you?" Harry managed to ground out. He had to admit, he was petrified. He was in pain, couldn't get up for the life of him, and these were strangers in a land of beasts. He tried to scoot himself away from the strangers but failed.

"Some call me Strider," the stranger responded calmly, resting his hands on the boys good shoulder. "Do not worry, Gandalf is here, if that is what you worry about. He is only beyond that grove."

Harry couldn't respond, as there was a severe stinging sensation in his shoulder where the man had put something in the cut. The pain was intense and he felt his body convulse slightly. Had he been poisoned from the arrow that hit him?

As he convulsed, he felt the sudden urge to vomit. He had to roll over, the throbbing from the lesion causing him to dry heave violently into the grass next to him. When that subsided he lay there, feeling as if unconsciousness was about to overtake him once more.

"Here, drink this," the man named Strider said, pressing something up against his lips. Harry didn't argue - he was parched. He drank from the canister that was held up to him and tasted lukewarm water.

It was the epitome of heaven, to him. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was.

When he couldn't drink anymore and nearly gagged on what was already in his mouth, the stranger took the canister away and pushed him gently to the ground again.

"Do not move if you can prevent it, Melon-nin. You are seriously injured."

Well, that was a no-brainer. "Where is my wand?" he rasped out.

"Wand?"

"Short… staff, stick, whatever," Harry groaned again.

"Oh, this," said another strange, airy voice. He glanced tiredly to where the voice came from and saw a stunningly beautiful life aura emitting from a tall, lithe figure. "Gandalf said he would want it when he woke."

He was handed his wand and Harry forced himself to sit up, against the protests of Strider. "Was I poisoned?"

"Yes, but we believe Gandalf was able to get most of it out," Strider told him. "The wound is very deep and your body is weak from the effects of the poison from when it was in your blood."

Harry fought a wave of dizziness again. He reached up with his left hand, feeling for the wound on his shoulder. It felt dirty and grimy. He pointed his wand to the wound gently.

"Scourgify," he whispered, and he instantly felt the grime disappear. He would then close his eyes and concentrate, whispering, "Episkey…"

He was too weak and when the spell took effect, he found himself falling into a world of blackness once more.

------

Aragorn watched the boy with unsure curiosity. He had forced himself to sit up again, and he wasn't sure if he should force the child to lay back down. He didn't want to cause him any more harm, since he didn't know who he or Legolas was.

When he asked for his 'wand', he was surprised. Of all things to ask for, why a stick? Aragorn had seen almost everything, but never had he dealt with a person so injured they asked for a stick. Nonetheless, Legolas retrieved it for him.

What he didn't expect was what the boy did with it. It boggled his mind that he found him pointing the tip of the stick to his chest at the wound, and whispered something quietly. He was astonished when the wound became clean, the dirt and grime disappearing in a quick second.

He blinked, holding his breath. He knew that the elf was watching as well and he glanced up. They shared mutual confused stare, then turned their attention back to the boy.

He was paler in the face, his body shaking, but he refused to lay back down. He whispered something else, and Aragorn watched, astonished, as the wound magically healed up, vanishing without even a scar.

It only took him a second to realize, though, that the boy had passed out. Luckily, Legolas' reflexes were faster and he caught the boys shoulders before he hit the ground too hard. They lay him back down on the ground, glancing at each other again.

"So, Gandalf said he was an Istari… and now I believe him," the elf intoned quietly, his eyebrows rose.

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "Indeed, I would not have believed it myself if I had not just witnessed this… magic."

A moment later, Gandalf was seen making his way back towards the other three. He had a grave look on his face and the ranger knew, then, that finding the Hobbits had been futile.

"Alas, our friends have disappeared once again."

"I would hope that the Uruk-hai did not find them this time and they're merely lost," Aragorn said, but his heart sank. Legolas voiced his inner thoughts.

"In a forest like this, two hobbits would have to have the luck of the elves to survive."

"Then lets hope they fly," Gandalf intoned gravely. "These forests are not safe for anyone, in these dark times…"

They all exchanged a look, their faces grave, then turned their attention on the ragged breathing Harry. None of them knew much about this stranger, but he might just prove to be a strong ally.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, so maybe this chapter will give you a slight hint of where this story is going. It's going to be a bit dark and it will have some angst but I'm going to put a bit of comedy in it, if I can. To all of those who reviewed: thank you so much! I didn't think I'd get so much feedback after I'd abandoned this story so long ago. But apparently it's still a good plot so thus, I will keep writing!

Also, there are no pairings in this story. Not any love-relationships, anyway. But anyhow.. On with the story!

* * *

It had not been too far into the night when the ranger noticed conscious movement from where the young stranger, who went by the name of Harry, lay by the fire.

It had only been, at most, twelve or so hours since the child had collapsed. After Gandalf returned, shortly followed by Gimli who'd been out scouting, they made camp so that they could wait. There was no way they could lug the boy around through the forest. To make matters worse there was still no sign of the two hobbits and they were beginning to worry.

They could only hope that the halflings had made it safely out of the forest. Gandalf had said that they would follow their tracks as soon as the stranger woke up from unconsciousness.

Aragorn knitted his eyebrows together in thought as he watched the silhouetted form of Harry, shifting slightly to the right, his face looking pained. He heard a soft flutter and the tawny owl of the forest flew down to rest near the boy. There was something about this child that was unlike anyone he'd ever met.

His shoulder-length blonde hair looked yellow from grime, and he was definitely worse for wear. His body was malnourished by the looks of it and he was short. He looked like he couldn't be more than 16 summers old; and those eyes. The ranger couldn't get the image of the boys eyes out of his mind.

It was almost haunting - in the shadows of the forest light, he could have sworn the pupils had been dark slits. He wasn't sure if that was a hallucination or not, but he knew one thing for sure. The iris' had been fiery red, tinged with orange. They seemed to blaze in their sockets, making it hard for the ranger to look into those intense orbs.

Even Legolas wouldn't stare the young 'Istari' in the eyes. He refused, period. He never mouthed why, but Aragorn had a feeling his friend would share his thoughts with him soon.

The ranger took a long drag off of his pipe, continuing to stare at the boy while he listened to his companions as they sat about in firelight. Gimli and Legolas were bantering about the best ways to kill an orc while Gandalf sat off by himself, snoring loudly from beneath his hat. It sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

Aragorn sighed. If it wasn't one thing during this journey with the fellowship, it was another. He had a feeling that the worst was yet to come. He came to the conclusion that this young Istari would either be a blessing, or a curse. He had thought hard on the subject and decided that if there was healing magic involved then he was most likely on their side.

He only hoped this was true.

* * *

Everything was red; it was so bright.

There was heat everywhere, sweltering and consuming. Harry found himself atop the high black tower again, the howling wind whipping through his blonde hair and sending it flying in a frenzy about his face. His black cloak fluttered like dark wings around his body. He found himself perched at the ledge, staring down over the construction of mines teaming with orcs. He overlooked the disastrous pit and behind it a forest - once grand and dominant; being hacked and cut down, burnt to the ground.

It nearly made him sick. Ashtwig came to his mind for a moment but his attention was soon turned away from the image of his forest friend. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise slowly and he sensed a familiar entity.

He closed his eyes tightly. Why was this… this thing searching? It was too horrible to face and too ghastly to stomach. He wanted to retch from the probing he felt as it looked, always seeing.

What was it looking for again?

_"… the ring… bring me the ri…"_

He heard the echo and clenched his eyes shut tighter. He didn't want to stare at it - he didn't want it in his mind. He remembered now that it had asked for the ring when last he saw it. Was this the same ring that Gandalf had spoken of? Was this the very same ring that the wizard Sauron wanted?

Was this some vision sent from the henchmen of Sauron himself to try and persuade him to find the ring and bring it to him?

The pit of his stomach dropped and he felt faint. Sauron was dead, but the elder wizard had said that Maia never 'truly' die. Did they linger like ghosts of the past, haunting and provoking mankind? Could this… _this_ watchful eye have some connection with the dead Maia?

His eyes snapped open with the intense realization but that was short lived once he found himself face to face with the intense gaze of the Eye. He felt mesmerized, unable to blink or look away. He felt a raw power emanating from the frightening specter and it made his skin prickle.

He wanted to scream like before; banishing the nightmare but he found he could not open his mouth. No sound would make it's way from this throat. There was a loud rumbling and the wind howled louder.

_"… come… bring me… the ring.."_

_"I can't,"_ Harry thought desperately.

_"… find me the… ring.."_

_"I wont! I don't know where it's even at!"_ his mind shouted.

_"You… will… find it.."_

"NO!" he screamed, his mind breaking free from its trance.

He found himself sitting upright and he jumped back in fright as he felt the heat of flames against his skin. Glancing around quickly he realized it was only a campfire and that the Eye was nowhere to be seen.

He breathed out a ragged breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, which sent him into a frenzy of dry coughs. He was parched and his throat hurt horribly. He felt sticky with sweat and grime and his body ached.

He found himself quickly glancing around and realization dawned on him about what happened. His right hand lifted up to his chest where the arrow had been embedded and he sighed with relief when he felt only the slight bump of the scar. His magic had worked but the weak feeling in his limbs was still present.

"Ai, here is some drink," he heard someone say next to him. His head snapped to the side so fast he heard it pop loudly. He winced. The aura surrounding this person was nearly blinding.

"What is it?" he demanded with a slight grimace.

"Water," the airy voice responded, calm.

Harry reached out reluctantly and took it. He vaguely remembered seeing this aura before - this must have been one of the two people who had been with him when he woke up the first time.

"Who are you?" he asked cautiously while taking a gulp of water.

There was a sigh and a movement but no noise was made as the stranger shuffled his feet on the ground. "I am Legolas Greenleaf."

The boy promptly spit out the water he was about the swallow and gagged, coughing violently.

There was a movement and some more shuffling and he heard the voice of the familiar 'stranger' he'd first spoken to. "Do not drink too fast, _melon-nin_. It would not do if you were to choke to death on mere water."

Harry felt heat rise in his face but he sputtered, "Legless _who_?"

There was a snort from a distance away and a guffaw of laughter. His head snapped to the side and he saw a squat figure sitting by a tree, looking as if it were doubled over with laughter. Which, probably was the case.

"A legless elf!" came a gruff, hearty voice. There was a definite hint of joking in his voice. "A fitting name once you face the fiery of our axes!"

Harry turned to look at the ones near him and the 'airy' one seemed as if he were offended. He heard the other - Strider as he recalled - talk to the tall one in a very soft, melodious language. There was a sharp retort followed by a soft laugh.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. "His name is Legolas. I am Strider, and that there," he pointed towards the squat guffawing man, "that is Gimli. You know Gandalf, I presume…"

Harry nodded at this and searched the surroundings for the familiar life aura of the elder wizard. He felt ease settle over him - he trusted the wizard so far and these were his friends. He assumed they were trustworthy.

"Where… am I?" he questioned, taking another smaller drink from the flask that had been given to him.

"We are still in Fangorn Forest," said Strider.

Harry nodded, figuring as much. He could still sense the essence of the forest around him. It had a certain atmosphere to it that he felt as ease with. "Where are Merry and Pippin?"

There was a long pause and he assumed that the two were exchanging looks.

"Gandalf said that when the uruk-hai attacked, they ran. We have yet to find them," Strider informed him gravely. "Let us hope that they found no other dangers in this dark place."

Harry shuddered, thinking of the uruk-hai. Those nasty, void-like beings that reek of death. Leering with their jagged weapons raised. It was enough to make Harry draw his cloak closer around him.

"I hope they're okay," he said oddly, having only known them a few days. They seemed likable.

"Ai, as do we," Legolas murmured before walking away from them and standing closer towards the one known as Gimli.

"So… where did you guys come from?" Harry asked unsurely.

"Guys?"

Harry inwardly groaned. He'd have to get used to the fact that people from this world didn't know half of his dialogue. "All of you?"

"We were tracking Merry and Pippin, as it were," Strider provided, irony in his voice. "We had thought them possibly dead, as with Gandalf. Last we saw, he was being dragged into the fiery depths of hell by a Balroc. We thought there would be no escape."

"But Maia never really die," Harry repeated unsurely, not really confident that that had been what Gandalf said.

The man seemed to raise his eyebrows and he said with amusement, "Ai, you are truthful in your words. Of course you would know that, young Istari."

Harry groaned inwardly again. "I am not an Istari or a Maia. I'm just… a wizard."

There was a moments pause. "Those are the same, ai?"

"Not where I'm from."

Strider settled down on the ground getting comfortable, Harry presumed. He picked up the water flask and drank from it again, knowing what the next question was.

"Where is it that you hail from?"

Harry shrugged. "Across… seas and more." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Fair enough. So you are a traveler." It wasn't a question.

He nodded, feeling for the first time how grimy his hair felt against his skin. He twitched slightly and fumbled around for his wand. He knew that the stranger was watching him intently and he noticed a stiffening in his posture. He figured he was cautious but interested at the same time.

He found the holly wand and pointed it to his head and said, "_Scrougify_!"

He instantly felt the grime disappear and his blonde locks fell cleanly around his face. His face didn't feel oily and sweaty. It was nice to feel cleaner.

"I would not believe it possible had I not seen it myself," Strider began. "That healing of yours is a mighty defense against the enemy."

Harry shrugged. "It's just a mandatory spell."

"You have earned my respect, young Istari. Very few besides the elves know much about healing."

"Elves?" Harry questioned. He pictured Dobby in Middle Earth. He shuddered again.

Strider seemed to realize something because he let out a small throaty noise then motioned to where the bright aura was. "Legolas is an elf."

He was an elf? Could that be why his aura was so bright?

"I nearly thought you to be of the elvin kin," Strider continued. "With your hair and features, I would have assumed."

Harry nearly gagged. "Gandalf said that too!"

"You do appear like one," he offered. "The hair - but yours eyes…"

Harry noticed his hesitance. "What about them?"

"They are of the curious color," he said hesitantly.

Harry vaguely remembered that Ashtwig said they had been red._ '"I doubt you could get far because I can tell by your eyes that you are newly blind.. Although there is something else there… the red in them shows something else."'_

Red eyes.

Harry felt his blood run cold. In his mind he could see the looming eye searching. Waiting. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"I've never seen such a color in all my travels."

"I'm blind," Harry stated bluntly. "I cannot see the way you do."

He noticed a shift in the elf's aura and he knew he was listening.

"I do not quite understand…" Strider began.

"I am blind, but I have a second sight," Harry informed him, slightly annoyed. He didn't know why. "I see aura's - I see life. I do not see you, only your spirit. I see the life in the trees, in the plants and flora. I can sense the essence of purity in all earthy things. I just don't see those damn Uruk-hai! They're ghastly, nasty things that just suck the life out of the earth. All they do is leave destruction in their path!"

Silence met his statement.

After a moment Legolas, whom Harry hadn't noticed moved closer, said, "That is remarkable in many ways, _melon-nin_. It is nice to see someone who shares compassion to the plants and life around us. Are you sure you are not kin to the elves?"

Harry let the last bit slide, since he could hear a hint of teasing in his airy voice. Harry settled for a slight smirk, "Let me put on a doily and I'll let you know."

He knew this confused him but he found it amusing. They would never know what he meant. He snorted slightly but was interrupted by a yawn.

"We must get some rest," Strider decided and stood up. "We will take leave first thing at dawn break in the 'morn. We have hobbits to track. I will take first watch, this night."

No one argued and for the next ten minutes the camp settled down. Harry lay back down, slightly uncomfortable. He picked up his wand, muttered a cushioning charm on his cloak, then tucked the holly weapon back into its holster. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him and turned his head to stare into the fire.

He slowly felt himself falling into unconsciousness, the last thing he saw being the dark, raw consumption of air and life as the fire created a vast, dark void everywhere around it. He vaguely thought he heard an echo, whispering out to him, but he found himself falling into blackness before he could comprehend what the voice was saying.

_"… bring me… the ring…"_


End file.
